


House of Blood

by MonkeyKnight



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game), Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Great One! Hunter is effectively immortal, Hunter has his own name for the enemies, random idea i had, so is Plain Doll
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-10-08 11:10:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17385368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonkeyKnight/pseuds/MonkeyKnight
Summary: Fleeing Titan after surrendering the generator to the Given, Mithrax and his crew encounter a different type of Hunter on Earth...





	1. May The Good Blood Light Your Way

_ “Oh, Good Hunter...are you cold?” _

 

* * *

 

The screams of the Eyeless followed me as I raced through the caverns. Servants fired streaks of purple energy at me in an attempt to stop my progress.

 

Their efforts were fruitless, and my prize was still secured in my grasp.

 

* * *

 

_ “Doll...do you desire a name? It seems strange to continue to call you Doll now that I basically live here.” _

 

_ “You are the new master of the Hunter’s Dream. If it is your wish to give me a name, I would not be able to decline.” _

 

* * *

 

An Eyeless came at me from the front. Reflexes honed from many repeated actions and mistakes blew the creature’s head off with my Blunderbuss. The wall to my left burst open, and a Warrior rushed me, blade raised and ready to strike.

 

Once again, my Blunderbuss fired, and the Warrior fell to its knees. Normally I would take the opportunity for a visceral attack, but the horde of Eyeless still pursued me. Stopping for even a moment would spell death and the loss of my prize. I kept running.

 

* * *

 

_ “I believe I wish to leave the Hunter’s Dream.” _

 

_ “...I see.” _

 

_ “This upsets you?” _

 

_ “Good Hunter, you sustain the Dream now. If you leave, what happens to me?” _

 

_ “I always thought you’d come with me.” _

 

* * *

 

My goal was near. The temporary lamp that I had manifested sat at the very edge of the corruption these creatures created. Its glow intensified as I grew near, and the Messengers rose from the ground, ready to take me away from this accursed place.

 

An eerie, high-pitched whine grew in my ears, and I chanced a look behind me. More Eyeless had joined the horde, only these emitted a sickening green light. Their claws were not extended to catch the tattered edge of my coat, but wrapped around their midsection as though containing something.

 

I dared not risk my luck further, and increased my speed from a steady run to a full-on sprint. My Blunderbuss was stowed back in my coat, and my free hand was shoved forwards as I lunged for the lamp.

 

The Messengers pulled me down while dismantling the lamp.

 

The frustrated cries of the Eyeless, Servants, Witches and Warriors sounded behind me.

 

And I woke up in the Dream.

 

* * *

 

_ “Good Hunter...I think I have found a name I prefer.” _

 

_ “Oh? Do tell.” _

 

_ “I wish to be called Grace.” _

 

_ “Very well, Grace. I am Nikolai. A pleasure to meet you.” _


	2. Recounting the Past: Part One

_ Mithrax suggested I start a journal or record of some sort so that House Blood can learn more about how we came to be. He offered me a datapad so I could dictate the story, but I’ve always felt more comfortable writing. _

 

_ Besides, the Messengers can see the story for themselves this way, and they do love learning more about me. _

 

_ Well, the first part of the story would take too long to narrate. In short, I became a Hunter in exchange for blood healing. As part of my contract, I was to find the source of a plague called the Beastly Scourge, and destroy it. _

 

_ I was confident, of course, that this would be a simple task. After all, as a military veteran I knew how to wield both sword and gun, and was well versed in tactics and strategies. Surely I could handle a couple of beasts. _

 

_ If I had known the horrors awaiting me, perhaps I would have turned back and lived out the end of my days. _

 

_ As for the rest of it, suffice to say I found the Scourge’s source, killed it, killed the master of the Hunter’s Dream, and then the Great One that created the dream. I was then transformed into an infant Great One, and Grace, formerly known as the Doll and caretaker of the Dream, nurtured me until I had matured into my newfound form. _

 

_ Once my powers and abilities were mastered, I focused on the next step: leaving the Hunter’s Dream with Grace. _

 

_ Of course, fate is a fickle mistress, and as soon as I tried to leave, my essence was forced into the Hunter’s Nightmare, a realm similar to the Hunter’s Dream. The key difference here is that the Nightmare was a prison for blood-drunk hunters. _

 

_ Oh, and it was sustained by Kos, or Kosm, another Great One, and since this was not my domain, most creatures were hostile to me. Even worse, I was unable to assume any form other than my mortal self. _

 

_ To make another long story short, I fought my way through the Nightmare, killing the infant Great One born from Kos’s corpse, thus ending the hellscape’s existence. _

 

_ I suppose that’s where the story can begin… _

 

* * *

 

Nikolai fell onto his hands and knees, limbs trembling with exhaustion. He wrenched the cloth covering the lower half of his face down, greedily sucking in air. The Orphan of Kos had been one of his toughest fights, up there with Gehrman and the Moon Presence. Newly born and knowing only that the Great One in front of it was an intruder, the Orphan had attacked relentlessly with strength born from anger and fear.

 

But it was done. With the death of both Kos and her Orphan, Nikolai was the only thing sustaining the Nightmare. Seeing the Messengers erect a new lamp, the Hunter forced himself to his feet. Jamming a blood vial into his leg to mend the worst of the injuries, Nikolai staggered over to the lamp, lighting it to forge the connection back to the Hunter’s Dream.

 

He allowed his body to kneel down, and the Messengers pulled him through to the Dream.

 

Behind him, the Nightmare shattered.

 

* * *

 

_ Riveting, isn’t it? In complete honesty, nothing much interesting happened once Grace and I left the Hunter’s Dream. I did choose to continue its existence, if only as a temporary safe haven. _

 

_ Grace fought with me for a while on leaving the Dream. It was all she had known, and though she enjoyed when I told her of the areas I explored and the people I met, the unfamiliarity of the world...well, I think it scared her a little. _

 

_ Thankfully, I managed to convince her to come. _

 

* * *

 

**Bristol, England, 1888**

 

“Nikolai, what is the circus?”

 

The Hunter in question blinked, his focus breaking from the experiment in front of him. Grace was standing to his side, clutching a piece of colorful paper in her segmented hands.

 

“There was a man in very bright clothes handing out these papers,” she continued. “He was saying in a very loud voice that the circus was in town, and that everyone should come and see it.”

 

Nikolai held out his hand, and Grace handed him the flyer. According to the brightly colored parchment, Barnum & Bailey’s Performing Circus was doing a tour through England, and would be performing their show tomorrow night in Bristol.

 

To be completely honest, he didn’t have very much interest in the circus. Entertainment was a frivolity that he had very little time for as a Hunter, and now as a Great One it seemed pointless.

 

But Nikolai suspected that Grace was trying her best to connect to the world around her. If going to see the circus would help her with that, all the better to attend.

 

“Do you want to go and see the circus?”

 

“Please.”

 

Nikolai gave a small smile.

 

* * *

 

**Erfurt, Germany, 1918**

 

_ “Wir verlieren ihn!” _

 

The panicked cries of the nurse were were far from the only ones. A massive plague ( _ nottheplagueofbeastsneveragain _ ) had swept the country, and if the newspapers and radios were anything to go by, the rest of the world as well. The ongoing world war was not helping in the slightest.

 

Nikolai’s healing knowledge went as far as bandage the wound as tight as possible until the medic can look at it. The Hunt made it simpler: jam a vial in his leg to mend the wound or cure the sickness.

 

It would be too easy to supply blood vials to hospitals and healing grounds. They had grown desperate in their search for anything to even deaden the pain the sick were in. The thought was tantalizing. But use of the Old Blood would start another Plague of Beasts, and spark another Hunt.

 

It is good then, that Grace decided to help.

 

_ “Sprechen Sie Englisch?” _

 

_ “J-ja.” _

 

Grace could not get sick, and never tired nor wavered from her task, no matter how menial or disgusting.

 

“Please, sit up. Try to drink.”

 

If the other nurses and doctors noticed anything inhuman about Grace, they said nothing. They had her stop on occasion, claiming she needed to rest lest she fall ill. Grace never objected, knowing they meant well.

  
  


“Good. Lay back down, now, carefully. I’ve got a fresh cloth for your forehead.”

 

_ “D-danke, Frau Engel.” _

 

Many of the patients had taken to calling her such. Though she could not cure them of their illness immediately, she could soothe their pains and help break their fevers. The doctors and nurses were given copies of Djura’s notebook, which documented all sorts of diseases and plagues (needless to say the Plague of Beasts was nowhere in any of the copies.)

 

Through it all, Grace would marvel at humanity. Most of the humans she had known were Hunters, and therefore had durability and immunity granted to them by the Old Blood, yet here were regular humans, fighting to survive an enemy they could not see. Their tenacity was inspiring.

 

Grace would tell all of this to Nikolai when he returned from the war.

 

* * *

 

_ While Grace tended to the sick and wounded, I was conscripted into the world’s war. As a Great One, I could have denied the conscription, or wiped out the enemy as easily as breathing. Yet, I found that I missed the thrill of fighting, the rush of combat. And so, I went willingly. _

 

_ The fighting was what I initially enjoyed, and gained a fast reputation among the German army as a deadly force. The men appropriately called me Der Jäger, much to my amusement. None of the enemy soldiers knew what to do when faced with my saif and blunderbuss. My path was reckless, and if I had been this reckless in the Hunt, I quite possibly would not be here. _

 

_ Many of the enemy managed to stab or shoot me, but I was no longer mortal. My weapons worked against Great Ones because they and myself were empowered by the Old Blood. The mundane weapons that were being used caused me pain, but any wounds were quickly regenerated and caused no lasting damage, for it was not my will to die. _

 

_ And then, the war was over. The Germans had lost, forced to sign the Treaty of Versailles and put themselves at a disadvantage. At first, I did not care. My lust for battle had been sated, so what did the politics of mortals mean to me? _

 

_ Time passed, and the world grew complacent. A man rose to power, promising a new Germany, the Third Reich, and all Germans had to do was ignore the treaty. I watched on with amusement, forgetting my humanity, and therefore doing nothing to stop him or his messages to the public. _

  
  


_ I did not care when he started war anew. I did not care when those considered imperfect were deported and discriminated. I did not care when Grace pleaded with me to stop the war again, when I was called back into action by the  _ _ German _ _ Nazi armies. _

 

_ I did not care because I had lost my humanity. _

 

_ Until one little girl helped me regain it. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this chapter forced me to look up some history. Turns out P.T. Barnum was an even bigger con man than the movie portrayed him to be.

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea I had randomly. Y’all tell me if you want more


End file.
